And as Coupeau refused to speak to the Lorilleuxs on the subject saying that she, Gervaise, could very well go and do so, the latter went up in a fit of indignation with which her heart was almost bursting.
When she reached their door she entered without knocking.

Nothing had been changed since the night when the Lorilleuxs, at their first meeting had received her so ungraciously.

The same strip of faded woolen stuff separated the room from the workshop, a lodging like a gun barrel, and which looked as though it had been built for an eel.

Right at the back Lorilleux, leaning over his bench, was squeezing together one by one the links of a piece of chain, whilst Madame Lorilleux, standing in front of the vise was passing a gold wire through the draw-plate.

In the broad daylight the little forge had a rosy reflection.
"Yes, it's I!" said Gervaise.